Flight Of A Fledgling
by GoldenSilence
Summary: Ch. # 4 is up!! Sequel to "A Fairytale In Reality." All is at peace in Hyrule, but peace is only a cloud obscuring the real turmoil that lurks. Zelda/??, ??/??, and Malon/Link.
1. The Gorons

@Flight Of A Fledgling@  
  
By:GoldenSilence  
  
ch.1-The Gorons  
  
disclaimer: Miyamoto owns Zelda and Travis owns the song I'm using (well, duh.:))  
  
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A/N=Wow, how's that for a funky title? No, I did not just close my eyes and point to words in a dictionary, thanks for asking.:)If anyone has read the preequel to this, "A Fairytale In Reality" (which, I highly reccomend they do) they may remember that in the very last chapter, I briefly mentioned a bird taking flight..that signifies Malon's own freedom, of course. So, naturally, "The Fledgling" represents Malon. Just thought I might want to clear that up. (Us author's minds work in straaange ways, I'm tellin' ya.:;)) Everyone that has read the first preequel, please don't hesitate to review and tell me what you think! I really want this to be as good as the first one. Hopefully, you romantics out there don't mind the including of the action/adventure genre..'cause this story is definitely heading that way, starting the NEXT chapter. And as a warning, there will be other couples in this besides Malon/Link..*gasp.*  
  
Oh yes, and I was wondering- is this the kind of stuff I could ever show someone else? I am an avid writer, but nervous about what other people (friends of mine and my english teacher) will think-I don't take harsh critisism well, and I'm afraid they would butcher this little ficcy.  
  
Dedicated to: All you people out there that asked me for a sequel, you know who you are!! Your reviews really motivated me to continue with this quickly (I was going to take a week off, but what can I say, I got into this story too much.) Enjoy!!  
  
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~And then this bird just flew away, she was never meant to stay. Oh to keep her caged would just delay the spring. You broke your word. Now that's a lie. We had a deal that you would try. Come on inside, girl, I think it's time. High time we drew the line. But then this bird just flew away. While I looked the other way.~~ (Travis)  
  
*************  
  
It was a joyous occasion. One could tell that even from the bitter beginnings of the wintery wind, itself. Energy seemed to be invested in everywhere and everything, helped by the heavy thud of the Goron's feet as they exerted themselves, the weight of their dancing causing even the normally stolid ground to tremor slightly.  
  
Or the Goron's unique interpetation of dancing, anyway. In reality, it was really just stomping and shaking to a set of quaint drums and a fiddle. The vociferous noises the Gorons made, both with their stomping style of dancing and their equally loud way of talking, could not quite rival the noise booming forth from the drums-though they seemed to be trying to.  
  
Somewhere admist the figures of the Gorons, Link and Malon were doing their own sort of dancing, though much akin to the Goron's own exuberant and flamboyant display of athletisism. Looking at their faces, it was clear to anyone with good eyesight that beyond the celebration the Gorons were doing, a more personal celebration was taking place between the two.  
  
Link watched Malon dance beside him and to his eyes, it seemed as if her feet, unlike the Goron's, seemed hardly to touch the ground for more than a second, both them and her moved as if possessed of some strange maniac energy.  
  
Malon, Link knew, loved music, whether it was the humming of a simple tune or the singing of a lullaby. He hadn't known her love of music extended to the dancing that accompanied it in addition, but it must have, because her every movement showed the style, notes, and tempo of the music that was playing; a performance in itself, each flick of her hand and turn and twist of her body was linked to the rthym of the beat.  
  
Her head tipped back to the sky as she spun around, Malon's energy seemed inexhaustable and at last Link put up his hands in mock protest, pleading with her to slow down.  
  
"Come on back to earth! You can't dance in the clouds forever, you know."  
  
Malon laughed, her eyes sparkling as she spun away from him again and her hair whipping around her face as she turned. "And why not?" she yelled over the noise of the music.  
  
"Because one mere mortal is going to end up hobbling on a cane as a result from trying to dance as you do," replied Link.  
  
Malon just laughed more. "That's because the mere mortal is dancing with two left feet," she gently chided.  
  
Link grinned. "The better to step on you with, my dear."  
  
Malon, in response, put her feet right on top of his own. "Better?"  
  
The silky strands of Link's hair briefly touched Malon's brow, tickling her skin as he leaned over until they were nose to nose. "Much."  
  
*********  
  
The Goron drummer, spotting the pair as they moved in closer to each other, whispered something to the Goron fiddling and on cue, the music changed from insanely fast and upbeat jig to a slow, haunting melody, the drum now being pounded ever so often in the background.  
  
Malon made to move off of Link's feet, but he pulled her back to him. "Don't want you dancing away from me, now do I?"  
  
"Silly," said Malon. "You just don't want them to start playing a song any faster than a funeral march again," she teased.  
  
"Alright, I confess!" Link put his arms around her back, playing with the flower tucked behind one of her ears.  
  
"So you admit that you fence far better than you dance," concluded Malon, her tone light hearted. Link obviously wasn't a bad dancer at all. On the contrary, he was quite a decent one-but decent did not compare to Malon's own quick feet and gestures.  
  
Link put his finger to her lips. "Wait a minute, I never said exactly what I confessed."  
  
"Well say it then," Malon demanded, putting her own arms around his neck.  
  
"Oh, it's nothing important," Link exaggerated. "Only that I love you."  
  
Strange how she had heard those words time and time again, yet they still brought a sense of joy. Not that Malon lived to hear Link say such, of that he really didn't need to. The way she and him both acted and the expressions on their faces when they were around each other said all that ever needed to be said.  
  
Still, Malon spoke. "And I love you."  
  
Unlike when she had first said those very words, no tenativeness came through in her voice. She was as sure of Link's affection as he was of hers.  
  
Link had no answer, except to smile. And Malon smiled back as she moved to rest her head on his shoulder, the effect of all the numerous dances she had been apart of finally catching up with her as she began to feel slightly sleepy.  
  
*********  
  
Zelda was also at the Goron's celebratory dance in honor of both Volvagia's defeat one year's hence and the god that they believed resided within the very core of Death Mountain.  
  
Funny how only a few short days had turned the tables, she mused. A few days ago, at her father's own much more stately imitation of the Goron's occasional feasts and parties, Zelda had been the one settled in Link's arms and Malon had been the one the observing them both, her face a sad and confused thing to look at, indeed. However, now it was Malon in Link's arms with Zelda forced to play the role of the onlooker.  
  
No, not forced, Zelda thought, choosing to. And I chose not to love him as well, didn't I? she reminded herself.  
  
But Zelda's wandering eyes that kept going to the couple showed only too lucidly that her heart had made a choice altogether seperate from her mind's.  
  
You are NOT going back on your choice now-not after it's already been made and done with. It wouldn't be fitting for a queen to be so fickle-minded.  
  
After all, how many sacrifices had Zelda made to stay within what was expected of a queen? Far too many, but it couldn't be helped. This was simply another sacrifice she would have to make.  
  
Ridiculous. I'm watching her watching him.  
  
Zelda turned away from the scene in front of her and studied her reflection in the glass she held.  
  
*********  
  
Malon's face would have shone just as brightly even if there had been none of the glow from the small, Goron-made bonfires to reflect on it, as would have Link's.  
  
The celebration taking place between them was none other than the fact that in each other, they had found someone they felt comfortable around and that brought out the best in them. They were engaged and that was both scary and exciting, to realize that someone had so much control over you just by loving you and you had the same control over them by doing the same. Malon didn't like to wield that sort of power at all.  
  
She glanced down at Link's feet, which were still covered with hers. "You sure this isn't hurting your feet? I'm no Goron, but still-Much as I enjoy dancing with you, I don't fancy carrying you piggyback down the aisle."  
  
"Don't worry," said Link, stepping to and fro with Malon's feet atop his own. "You're my strength," he said, half joking and then suddenly turned serious. "And in being so, my only weakness. Malon..."  
  
Malon knew instantly what Link was speaking of. Before their wedding, he had to go on a trip with the king-to try and talk some sense into a country whom, according to Link and the king, had none. Naturally, the country thought as highly of Hyrule as Hyrule did of it. Malon didn't want Link to go ever bit as much as he didn't want to, but they couldn't always be together.  
  
Still..what if someone tried to kill him on his so called trip? She wasn't stupid. Just because Ganondorf was dead didn't mean his followers were.  
  
"I'll be fine. Honestly, it's just one week you'll be gone," Malon spoke to Link with a reassurance she didn't feel. "How in Hyne's name do you think I managed all those years with Ingo, anyway?"  
  
She smiled impishly. "I can assure you, it wasn't just on my wits."  
  
"I can see that from the death grip you have on my shoulder," Link said with a wince.  
  
Malon released the pressure of her hand on Link's shoulder-and the tension she felt on the inside.  
  
Link tried to look like Malon's earlier statement had relieved him and failed miserably. Having banished Ganondorf lead to many allies-and an equal number of enemies. What would such enemies do to get to him, to get him out of the way? Kill Malon? Quite possibly.  
  
Be alone and no one except you could get hurt. Attach to the world around you, to friends and loved ones, and you brought the same risks as were your own; the danger of life and death, down around their heads.  
  
But just like Zelda, Link had made a choice. Though, unlike her, he had taken a chance with that choice-and at the same time, become vulnerable in the eyes of all those that sought to obliviate him once and for all.  
  
Then Link put all thoughts and worries on hold, simply content to dance with Malon and hold her. Her face was the afterglow of his, as the firelight was of the sweat shining off of the Gorons. Both faces were direct opposition to the bleak, gray atmosphere of Hyrule, which was now readying itself for winter.  
  
After dancing in silence for what seemed eternity, Malon broke the surrealness that possessed those moments; the fireflies and pixies that fluttered about entermingling in the night sky with the stars, all above the creatures dancing. Looking at Link's face, she asked a most simple question. "What are you thinking?"  
  
Link raised an eyebrow as he steered her clear of one of the bonfires. "You really want to know?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"That I wish you would marry me right here and now," he stated plainly.  
  
Malon blushed. "And who would be the minister? Darunia?" she asked, pretending to be serious.  
  
"Naturally, he would perform the ceremony. After which, we would jump across one of these bonfires for good luck."  
  
"But bonfires don't symbolize good luck. They symbolize fertilit-" began Malon, then stopped, realizing what she had just said.  
  
"That too," said Link. He looked emberassed. "Really it's just a superstition, anyway."  
  
Malon grinned. "Well, just so you know, I wouldn't mind having some..someday."  
  
"What's this? Making plans for children already?" broke in a voice at Malon and Link's side. Turning her head from where it was resting on Link's shoulder, Malon saw Darunia watching the both of them bemusedly, a huge, loopy type of smile on his face that made the other dancer's expressions appear sad by comparison. "Are you pregnant then? That is most joyous news!"  
  
The Goron's hearty voice boomed , simultaneously making itself heard over the other voices, dancing, and the music. In that instant, the music ceased and several pairs of eyes (along with several pairs of ears) focused on Link, Malon, Darunia, and their little chat.  
  
Instinctively, Zelda's hands trembled slightly and she tightened her hold on her glass to keep them from shaking any further. For one terrible moment, she held her breath.  
  
"No, I'm not pregnant," Malon answered.  
  
"She's engaged!" Link shouted happily, picking up a startled Malon and planting a kiss on her cheek. Zelda's terrible moment became prolonged.  
  
It was then that a current of doubt ran through Link. What if it was safer for her not to marry him or love him? Shouldn't he at least give her the choice?  
  
"That is, if you still want to. Do you?" he asked in a whisper, wanting to make sure her emotions were not alien to his own.  
  
"On that matter, you shouldn't need convincing," whispered Malon back, giving him a kiss. And the doubt passed as quickly as it had come.  
  
Malon still felt by Link's announcing of their engagement, never the less. The secrecy of their engagement had been an unsure thing; Malon had only not told anyone because she felt it was information she wanted to treasure and keep private-at least, for a short while. Plus, if the truth be told, Malon was afraid of how people would react. A peasant with a noble? Unheard of-and not approved of, either.  
  
Darunia's and the other Goron's reactions put Malon's fears to rest. "Did you hear that? The hero of time is engaged to our songbird here!" shouted Darunia, and the other Gorons exulted at the news, clapping and stomping their hands and feet in appreciation.  
  
Link already was holding Malon in the air as if he never intended to put her down, and was just as startled as she was when Darunia picked both of them up, crushing them in the very strong Goron hug Link had tried to avoid years ago as a child. Malon and Link caught each other's gaze and grinned sheepishly. They were both at peace and happy, but for one person's happiness, there is always one suffering.  
  
And in Malon and Link's little world- the one that held only them-shutting out even the overjoyed Gorons now showering them with congratulations at the news, they realized and noticed nothing else except for each other.  
  
Not even Zelda, standing on the fringe of the crowd surrounding Link and Malon. She smiled and gave a polite wave in their direction, pretending to look glad for them both.  
  
Her face was as composed as anyone's; it didn't betray her true emotions, but her actions did.  
  
Her grip on her glass tightened until that very same glass broke into a thousand glittering shards. Unable to stand it, Zelda left the Goron's celebration-but not running as Malon had done before. She would never run; she had made her choice.  
  
You could have chosen differently. That could be you he's holding right now; you he's engaged to.  
  
No! I have made my choice and will stand by it, no matter the consequences.  
  
Instead, Zelda walked slowly and with the utmost of precision. Even when Malon and Link, the Gorons, and the bonfires were far from view, Zelda still just walked, never hastening her gait.  
  
Only upon reaching Hyrule Castle and the gardens inside it did Zelda's carefully contrived mask crumple, showing the confused girl beneath. The girl, that unlike the queen she had become, possessed no need to hide anything. She wandered about in the garden, the maze within it nothing compared to the more conflicting emotions and thoughts that flooded Zelda's very being.  
  
Sure, life is easy when you're beautiful, rich, and have every wish you ever make granted.  
  
Except when you figure out that some desires cannot be fulfilled by even the most powerful of kings or potent of wizards.  
  
When Zelda's eyelids closed at last as she lay on a stone bench, she prayed for a dreamless sleep, as devoid of feelings as she at that moment needed to rule herself to be. But it was not to happen, for when she fell asleep, it was to dream a dream that was not easily forgotten.  
  
*********  
  
And back at Death Mountain, Link and Malon; now covered in soot after the Goron's encouraging them to jump over the bonfires, were sitting side by side on the ground, their arms entertwined anew.  
  
They complimented each other-and not just the way her fiery hair went against his own pale strands, but in the way that they talked and in the way they thought. Perhaps they didn't share the same views or possess the same personalities, but they understood each other.  
  
More than Zelda understood herself.  
  
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angst, angst, angst-hoooraaaayyy! (You start writing fluffy Harry Potter fanfics and it gets to ya)*Sees everyone's angry faces.* Ermm..I mean darn??  
  
**runs off away from several things of rotten fruit.** Since I am a pyromaniac, flames will only be used to burn my ample supply of easy mac! And the plot comes into play soon, I promise..bwhahahaha. 


	2. Dreams Are Never What They Seem

@Flight Of The Fledgling@  
  
Ch. 2-Dreams Are Never What They Seem  
  
by:GoldenSilence  
  
disclaimer: Miyamoto dude owns all. Obviously.  
  
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A/N=Acck, almost two and a half weeks between updates! My apologies, but when you are writing five fanfics at once, it makes it a tad bit difficult to update often. Especially over christmas break. And especially when you are currently suffering from a cold *honks on tissues. Please review and tell me what you think! Comments are so very appreciated, and thanks to those that keep reviewing again and again; you guys all know who you are- and you seriously rock!;) Also, Malon and Link aren't in this chapter-well, not really. Of course they get mentioned. But they will be back with a vengeance in the next chapter. Can't stay away from those two for too long, but I thought it would be nice to show more on Zelda's perspective (and, I am hoping, some of the original characters I created for the Zelda universe) in this fanfic in addition to Malon's and Link's. Oh yes, all looking for a sappy chapter-hold up for chapter 3. This is not sappy happy. More angst abounds-or action/adventures abounds..or whatever, something like that.:)  
  
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Cold, bleak night gave way to an equally cold and bleak day, only waning slivers of sunlight warming the thick layer of frost that covered everything in a world of snowy white. Pale yellow sunlight the same color as Zelda's hair that cascaded in waves and chaos over the bench she had foolishly fall asleep on the night before.  
  
Of course, last night, snow hadn't been falling as if to cover the whole land up to the sky in its magnificence. And last night, Zelda, her emotions in a state of turmoil, hadn't exactly been in a clear state of mind. Neither was she now. Even as she dreamed, she achieved no true rest.  
  
The land of Hyrule was the epitome of calm and peace, no liveliness in the form of vegetation, flowers, or glimpses of green among the trees; even their sturdy brown trunks seemed to have turned to stone gray.  
  
Inside Zelda's slumbering mind, however, the world was as different from this one as something solid was from air. Yet it was also invariably linked to Hyrule, because it was Hyrule. Hyrule as perhaps it would one day be. Hyrule as Zelda prayed it never would be. Hyrule more desolate than winter could ever hope to make it, fire outlined against the storm strewn sky.  
  
Zelda saw everything that happened, her view the same as one watching through a crystal ball or from the clouds. Everything seemed far off and far away from her; distant.  
  
At first, for all of two seconds, Zelda was an impassive watcher, as impassive as the snow covered Hyrule she had left behind when she fell asleep was. But soon she was whisked away upon the wind, drawn by some unexplicable force right into the heart of the destruction. As the undefined figures and shapes; at first only faint images in the night, and the fire that seemed to loom everywhere obscuring them all became clearer, Zelda felt the bile rise to her throat.  
  
The strangely shaped objects consumed by the fire that she had from a distance off thought were only burning lumps of hay or perhaps, smoldering various brush gathered from the forest, were nothing of the sort. They were, in fact, houses. Houses and people. People screaming, their terror only seeming to fuel the energy and panic that charged the very atmosphere.  
  
Burning. Burning everywhere. Zelda looked down at the ground, simply for a change of sight from the gruesomeness of it all, and was surprised to see her own two feet amid the charred cinders of wood on the ground. So not only was she there in the sense that she could see everything that happened; there in spirit, but her body was there, as well.  
  
"Is this a dream?" Zelda thought aloud and was horrified when a woman answered her, a woman running by with her child wrapped within the remains of a shawl (running from what, Zelda wondered.)  
  
"This a dream? That's a good one. Nay, miss. This is as close to reality as you're ever going to get."  
  
She had been called lass. No one called a princess that. Majesty, or milady perhaps, but never lass. It was as if the lady didn't know who she was. Preposterous. Everyone in Hyrule knew who Zelda was. All bowed, abandoning whatever business or pursuits they had at the moment to pay her respects when she came through town. Not that she expected such in the middle of an event like this, but...not recognizing her?  
  
Something was wrong. Very wrong. "Where's the king, then?" she demanded of the woman, running to keep up with her as she fled. "Where are all the king's guards and knights?"  
  
"Huh." The women spat over her shoulder, the spittle flying over Zelda's shoulder. A sign of disrespect for the king, or perhaps contempt, even. What had happened to turn the people against her father so? Or had the always been and he was too blind to see it?  
  
No. The Hyrulians had always been loyal.  
  
"They're all dead," continued the woman, hurrying up her pace now so that Zelda had to struggled to keep up with her, dodging this way and that away from the fire's raging path. She laughed bitterly. "A lot of good they'll do us, unless corpses make good shields."  
  
Zelda ceased trying to keep up with the woman, watching as she continued to run, becoming merely an abstract figure as she got further and further away.  
  
This was reality? It couldn't be. It just couldn't be, thought Zelda desperately as she surveyed people dying right and left. The smell accompanying all of this pandemonium was putrid, comprised of soot and something Zelda wished she couldn't identify. Something that she unfortunately could. Blood and burning flesh, both humans' and animals'.  
  
Who would do such a thing? This wasn't Hyrule, was it?  
  
Then, seemingly without even having to think it or command herself to do so, Zelda's feet moved against her will, as a robot's would, the only feet not hurriedly running away or completely stilled forever in death. She came to stop at a sign, or more accurately, what had once been a sign. Only half of it remained while the rest lay in the dirt.  
  
Zelda remembered Link had done such destroying of signs for fun sometimes, but he had always rebuilt them by playing her lullaby on his ocarina...  
  
But inspecting what was left of the sign more closely, Zelda realized its ruined state was not Link's doing. She also realized that for better or for worse, this was indeed Hyrule. Some kind of twisted Hyrule, but still Hyrule, all the same, for Zelda could just make out upon the sign the words "Kakariko Village."  
  
Instead of being chopped clean in half as a sword such as Link's would have done if applied, the sign (and even the wooden post, itself) bore deep groove marks, marks that were the work of an axe. An axe? But none of father's knights or guards used an axe. Why, no one in Hyrule used an axe as a weapon except for the--  
  
Zelda's thoughts were torn from her (if it was even possible to think in such a place of terror and unrest) as suddenly the scene faded before her very eyes. Her temporary relief at being gone from the place vanished as that previous scene was replaced with a far more horrible one. Far more horrible because she was now in a town full of people she knew and recognized more numerously than in Kakariko. The town spread out before her and her father's very own castle.  
  
The relief returned as Zelda noted that, differing from Kakariko Village, everything here was going according to its usual, bustling schedule, not as much as a trace of destruction unless you counted the chickens squabbling and pecking anything within their beaks' reach.  
  
A man in his late fifties carried a little girl piggyback through the crowd, bringing a smile to Zelda's face when she saw who he was. The oldest of her father's knights; the only one that had shown her kindness aside from Impa, her nanny. Everyone else kept their distance from a princess, only staying long enough to give a curteous "good day, milady" or "good evening, milady" , making it a point to stay out of her path for all hours in between.  
  
"Arogas! Arogas!" she called, but even though he was only a mere foot away, within hearing distance, Arogas appeared not to hear her, continuing as if he couldn't see her either.  
  
Zelda went right up to his face. "What's wrong with you? Don't you know me?"  
  
No response. He walked right through her and right on past. It was the same with a peddler and a little boy chasing a butterfly. Unlike Kakariko, no one noticed her or saw her. She was invisible to them, inaudible and invisible. But then, so was the noise that broke over that happy chattering of the multitude of voices wthin Hyrule Market. They couldn't hear it, but Zelda could.  
  
Zelda, who had just wished to be out of the destroyed Kakariko Village now wished herself back there as she saw what accompanied the noise. The ground shook and tremored (this too went unnoticed by the people.) An earthquake was what it seemed to Zelda-but then as it got nearer to the town, louder, and more distinct, she discovered it was actually composed of thousands upon thousands of hoof beats pounding upon the turf.  
  
Zelda was screaming now, shouting as loud as any of those in Kakariko Village had, trying to warn the villagers-the main focus those she knew; the baker, shoe maker, old beggar that begged in precisely the same corner every day-all of them.  
  
But it was to no avail. She could have yelled herself hoarse and they still would not have heard a thing.  
  
Then, they came. On war horses, with torches covered in pitch pine and lit with fire, axes and scimitars at their sides, clad in black and led by a man in a billowing cape, they came. And Zelda could do nothing but watch, a bystander in spite of her efforts to prevent being so.  
  
The city went from tranquil to a mirror image of Kakariko's debasement within but a few minutes of the mysterious riders' arrival. The first torch was thrown at the first house and with it, the people realizing too late what Zelda had been trying to warn them of, became all of a sudden one quivering, horrified, panicking mass. This mass quickly dispersed as it was every man or woman for him or herself, fleeing every possible route.  
  
Only one refused to run-stood his ground in front of the riders as they entered, refusing to let them pass.  
  
"Arogas, no! Don't!"  
  
Zelda rushed forward to help him. Didn't he see he was going to get killed? That man, the riders' leader, would cleave him in two without so much as trimming a fingernail..that was if his giant steed didn't stomp him over first. Zelda had moved to stand beside Arogas, but somehow she had not ended up so, but instead was standing in front of him. She could hear her voice, strong and stubborn, adressing the riders.  
  
"I don't know what you think you are doing, but this is a peaceful country. We have no quarrel with you, so begone! Or if you have reason for disatisfaction pertaining to Hyrule, speak to my father, the king."  
  
The woman in Kakariko had said her father was dead, but Zelda refused to believe it and besides, it just might save these people's lives, her saying that there was still someone in charge of the country, someone who could send out knights and guards for the protection of his people and defend his country himself, if need be.  
  
It was quite a speech if Zelda did say so herself, but its effects went entirely wasted. Neither the riders nor anyone else heard her, and the leader pretended not to hear her, though she knew he could. She knew from the smile he gave her-a wicked smile that said all too clearly that the person would have been scowling if he didn't think smiling was the more effortless of the two. The smile made Zelda very glad she could not see the rest of his covered face.  
  
He unsheathed his scimitar from his side, swinging it over his head in an arc and readying to bring it down upon Arogas' neck. Immediately, Zelda jumped in front of Arogas, meaning to die in his place if need be, but it did not come to pass. She truly was invisible to everyone else but herself, for the scimitar went clear through her and clear through Arogas' neck, droplets of his blood raining down upon her shoulders.  
  
She turned her head so not to have to see her friend in such immense pain, on his deathbed. With his last breath of life left, Arogas at last recognized and saw her, looking at her turned head and muttering his last word, the word that would haunt Zelda for some time, both in her dreams and when she was awake. "Traitor."  
  
Blink.  
  
The scene faded yet again and Zelda was now in a place even more familiar than Hyrule Market; inside the castle, in her father's throne room. And they were there too, the riders that reaped havoc with ease. The leader advanced towards her father's vulnerable form sitting upon the throne, and Zelda closed her eyes, sure she was only a helpless spectator, sure this was all a dream and she would wake up soon, sure her father would die.  
  
Die he did, but a helpless spectator to this, Zelda was certainly not. Instead, she now had a role to play-she was a helpless actress, guided as if a puppet by a master puppeter. Taking the dagger that one of the riders offered her, she walked behind her father's chair, raised it, and stabbed him in the back; the most shaming and unloyal death for any king.  
  
It was not her fault. She had no control. Indeed, it felt like it wasn't even her doing..  
  
Until afterward, when the absoluteness of what she had done soaked in and the tears that had been threatening to pour rained down at last.  
  
Even as she blinked, the world faltered and the scenery changed once more. Now, she was standing before him; the leader of the horsemen. Where (besides that it was before a fire) she did not know and privately reflected that that was partly because he did not wish her to.  
  
For he was controlling her. Controlling her as she stepped towards him, her mind wanting to run away but her feet not letting her.  
  
He smiled, the same evil smile, upon seeing her beside him. One deformed hand went up and pulled the hood of his cloak back to reveal his face to her-a face that may have been handsome once, but was now as deformed as his hands, twisted by the power consuming his very soul.  
  
Ganondorf. But Link had killed him. How could he still be alive? Was it possible?  
  
"Anything is possible-," Ganondorf answered her, and if Zelda could have jumped ten feet in the air, she would have, so shocked was she to hear him respond to her thoughts, things she had not even said aloud. His accent was not uncouth or rough, as some the peasants' were, but cultured; strange when put in conjuction with the wild, tattooed face that the words spilled forth from. "-But surely you knew that from your dreams?" he questioned.  
  
My prophetic dreams. But why do you speak of them? Am I-is this a dream?  
  
"That is one way of looking at it, perhaps," acknowledged Ganondorf.  
  
Then I wish to wake up. In the names of all the godesses, please let me wake up from this nightmare!  
  
Ganondorf's voice cut across her silent pleading. "Don't think that just because it is a dream, it willl not happen. Remember, this is not anyone else's dream but yours. And your dreams have a way of coming true." He laughed, an eerie sound among the still and quiet of wherever they were, only the crackling noise the fire made daring to join him in his mirth. "All this happens whether you want it to or not. You see what will happen, not what can happen."  
  
No. You are a liar. My father won't die. This is all just some king of a trap to-to-to  
  
"I think the words you are looking for are, get you to join me. And on that, I quite agree. You are sensible, think on it. Refuse to help my cause-"  
  
Cause? What cause?  
  
"-I do not reveal that so hastily. As I was saying, refuse to help and your loved ones will die." Ganondorf spoke of this in the same way most people would speak of the weather or their catch of fish for the day.  
  
No sooner had he finished speaking than Zelda saw flashes of pictures in her mind's eye.  
  
Blink.  
  
Malon and Link at their wedding, with him about to kiss her. As he moved to slide the ring on to her finger, both froze and turned to stare-Malon with loathing, he with pity- at the girl in the pews, that girl that was--Zelda?  
  
Blink.  
  
Link, being stabbed by her, a pool of blood fanning around him and splattering her as well with the evidence. His face stared unseeingly up at her own, pain written across its features, stretched tight in agony.  
  
Blink.  
  
*************  
  
Zelda turned her eyes dizzily on the bonfire in front of her, refusing to look at Ganondorf. She felt tears starting to form in the corner of her eyes, all the while furious at herself for crying. Crying was showing a weakness-and princesses, princes, queens, and kings never did that. To be ruler of a country was to allow yourself no weakness for the sake of that same country. Weaknesses lead to destruction and exploitation.  
  
Hurriedly brushing way her tears with the edge of her sleeves, Zelda thought bravely (there was no need to speak since Ganondorf could hear her thoughts, anyway.)  
  
If either way, they die, isn't the whole thing kind of pointless? What does it matter one way or the other? I think your little speech needs some editing there, sorry. Should have written down another version of it first, you know, something along the lines of join or die. Much more simple and effective.  
  
Ganondorf turned his face towards hers, the firelight reflecting off it as it had Malon's and Link's when they had been dancing with the Gorons only the day before...but with Ganondorf, it did not shine merrily, acccenting the happiness written across his face in a similiar way to the couple's. No, its light only served to reflect the hidden motives that hid within Ganondorf's calm face.  
  
A lethal sort of calm that made you only all the more sure he was a man of violence and action, one that was steeped in treachery, murder, and deceit, but thought nothing of it, these things now as natural to him as sleeping, eating, or breathing.  
  
"Do not avoid answering. What is your choice?"  
  
It isn't my choice.  
  
Ganondorf's eyes turned the color of the dancing flames themselves and Zelda heard his voice, louder and more terrible than before. It seemed to summon her, echoing from the grounds, the heavens, even the fire itself-all this without Ganondorf's lips so much as moving.  
  
"I GROW TIRED OF THIS. CHOOSE OR I WILL DO SO FOR YOU!"  
  
Zelda could not be frightened, she could afford to be (too many people's fates rested on her decision, though either way would do no good.)  
  
Then I choose no.  
  
"For him?" Ganondorf's voice issued forth from his own mouth again, sounding like the soft whisper of a steel blade as it sliced through the air-nearly silent and twice as deadly. Zelda did not have to ask who he spoke of. She knew. Link. Could she not escape him even in her dreams?  
  
"Heroes come and go, but we would be forever."  
  
Spending eternity with you? I'd rather you killed me then die of boredom, thanks all the same. But if you could sew me a new silk gown everyday and play the lute while dancing a jig, I might reconsider the-  
  
"SILENCE!"  
  
Ganondorf's voice boomed forth again and Zelda, needless to say, silenced herself in a hurry, fighting back the strange urge to laugh at Ganondorf's choice of words, seeing as it was more than a bit strange that he was telling her to be quiet when she had not spoken out loud so much as a syllable. Perhaps humoring Ganondorf had not been a good idea, but it was all that was keeping what was happening from seeping in. Just as Zelda could not afford to be frightened, she couldn't afford to take this all seriously. That would come later.  
  
It was awhile before Zelda ventured to speak-or rather, to think-again. How? she asked, knowing Ganondorf would understand what statement she was referring to. How could anyone live forever? I will not see my life lengthened by other's being shortened.  
  
"You mean you do not wish the hero of time to die. But would you care so for the girl; Malon, if such was her fate? Admit it, you would not."  
  
Blink.  
  
Zelda had another sudden image of her in the hills sloping up to the castle, laughing at Link as they shared a picnic. From her past, she realized.  
  
"Why, with all this time we spend together, people will think we are betrothed."  
  
"And what, pray, is so wrong with that?"  
  
"Link, if you mean to ask me, you are going to have to do a better job of a proposal," Zelda watched herself tease. It was an uncanny thing to watch yourself as you had been only a few weeks hence, as an unlooker would.  
  
"Precisely why I can't ask you yet. I still have to practice getting down on one knee without falling over."  
  
"Perhaps you should take ballet. I hear Master Johnas in Kakariko is an excellent leader of men in tights."  
  
Out of the blue, the words Zelda had been waitng for among the friendly banter.  
  
"I love you." Link ducked his head as if emberassed of the words. The Zelda of the past was even more emberassed.  
  
"I-I-I"  
  
And Zelda, unable to bear the words, to bear the fact that she could not love him partly because of her place in society and partly because of herself, ran off.  
  
"You can't catch me!"  
  
***********  
  
Blink.  
  
Back at the fire with Ganondorf again, Zelda defeated the urge to cry or better, to get up and give him a good punch alongside the jaw. He was the one showing her those images, she was sure of it. He wanted her to see them, trying to convince her to join him.  
  
Zelda's white, resolute, facial expression went for naught. "Upset?" asked Ganondorf. "You shouldn't be, for another loves you as much as he loves Malon."  
  
Blink.  
  
Yet another image, (did they never cease? thought Zelda tiredly) this one of Prince John, whom she had danced with what seemed so long ago. Only he seemed--different-- somehow. Though he looked as she had remembered last, even if he was sitting on a bed in what Zelda assumed was his own castle.  
  
His black hair untied, chunks of strands carried by the wind, his eyes a mirthful green. His eyes, there was the difference. They had been a mirthful green, now they seemed cold; lost and sad-so very sad. But why?  
  
Then, the eyes changed. They flickered, and Zelda thought she glimpsed something within them; some sort of spark, before Prince Johnathan fell out of bed and crumpled to the floor.  
  
Blink.  
  
The image was gone and she was staring at Ganondorf's ugly visage across the fireside.  
  
"What are you doing with him?!" Zelda demanded angrily, speaking out loud for the first time. Her indignant yell seemed to lessen upon the air, the last words coming out in almost a whisper.  
  
"Child, child." Ganondorf spoke her name as he would a favorite niece or nephew and it made Zelda seethe to her him talk so."It isn't what I am doing to him, it it was he is doing for me."  
  
Just a dream. Just a dream. This is all just a dream. Zelda clung to the thought and phrase tenaciously.  
  
"Nothing is ever just a dream. You may not choose to help me and join my cause now, but you will sooner or later, no matter. I am a patient man."  
  
That explains the twenty years before attempting to get the triforce, then. Or was that just because you were lazy?  
  
"That is enough." Ganondorf sounded faintly amused, as a cat would be with a mouse.  
  
And that was it. Zelda was going to go and punch him, she didn't care if she died. If everyone she loved died, she might as well die too. At least it would get her out of this awful dream that seemed to have no end.  
  
But just as she thought that, the dream did end, the things she had seen staying within her even as she tumbled through darkness, awakening to one of her father's guards shaking her shoulder. Zelda stood up from the stone bench, the snow shaking from her feet but not her hair, where it remained settled like a magical sprinkling of fairy dust. She took in her surroundings, pinching herself and wanting to make sure she was truly awake.  
  
She was. This was Hyrule as she knew it. Hyrule in the beginnings of winter with barren trees and landscape alike-even in the castle gardens, it was so. The world was calm, dreamlike, even. Strange that reality should seem like a dream while the dream had seemed like reality, but when Zelda first awoke from her visions, it was always so.  
  
Not that anyone besides Link and Impa knew she had them. Her visions were a strength, yes, but also a weakness. And weaknesses were not shown to anyone- who knew who was foe and who was friend?  
  
Zelda turned to the guard, the light briefly showing on a face that was so pale it made the sun almost look dark by comparison. "Yes?"  
  
"Your father requests an audience with you."  
  
"Very well. You may go and tell him I shall be there shortly."  
  
Zelda said nothing of her dream, showed nothing of how she had been effected by it. By all accordance, she had taken a foolish nap and dreamed of being rescued by a prince on a white horse, jewels, and dresses of velvet, as her tutor insisted princesses should. Should, but didn't.  
  
Of course, her tutor was also the one insisted on giving her regular "fainting" lessons-fat lot of good that would do her in life, thought Zelda disgustedly. What, was she just supposed to simply keel over into the enemy and hope it knocked him unconscious? Pretty stupid, but personal opinions were of no matter when you were training to be ruler-everything seemed to be dictated by someone else.  
  
The snow and ice reflected in Zelda's face as she walked through the gardens to the castle; cold expressionless, and hard-as easy as the warmth of the fire reflected in Malon's or..his.  
  
Ganondorf's face came to mind, far too accurate in clarity for Zelda's liking. Just a dream, she told herself again, the brief hint of emotion passing from her face like light into the shadows. Just a dream.  
  
The voice resounded, startling a sparrow nearby from a tree. And it startled Zelda even more.  
  
Do not be so quick to underestimate dreams, child. It was a faint voice, so faint that afterwards she was not entirely sure if it had not just been her imagination, a faint voice that seemed to whistle through the swooshing of the trees, with the howling and swirling of the snow itself.  
  
Zelda did a quick about face and found herself looking at a rose hedge, the roses' stems brown with age, their petals scattered on the icy ground before them. No Ganondorf. His voice was gone as speedily as it had come, a reminder of the nightmare.  
  
As if I could ever forget, thought Zelda bitterly. I never do. Always remember every one.  
  
She had a feeling this was definitely one she would be remembering more than any of the others-the images would remain branded within her mind forever. Was the outcome of everything to be as he had said?  
  
She would talk to Impa as soon as she could, but first, the conversation with her father had to be gotten out of the way-that was how Zelda always referred to talking to her father; getting it out of the way.  
  
Throughout the mazelike path of the garden, Zelda's thoughts were on the dream. And she felt cold to the very bone, shivering for a reason that had nothing to do with the snow or her silk slippers becoming soaked with ice.  
  
********* 


	3. Grasping

@Flight Of A Fledgling@  
  
ch.3-Grasping  
  
by:GoldenSilence  
  
------------  
  
A/N=Wow. It's been what, two months, since an update? My apologies. You know how it is. School and school and school and then there's always more school...*ahem.* Anyway, I hope someone still remembers this story and is around to enjoy this. It will NEVER take this long to update again, promise. Please leave a review, no matter how short. Comments help me know how I can become a better writer-and after my hiatus from writing, I need to know what people think. Thanks.:)  
  
*author dances in circles* (is that actually an athletic possibility?0.o) mush, mush...MUUUUUUUUSH!ANGGSTT!  
  
Whee. Sorry. Makes me hyper.  
  
----------  
  
It was every bit as icy as Hyrule Castle, the weather as unwelcoming and dreary, but yet it felt worlds away. To Link, anyway, who was admittedly, biased on the matter.  
  
Here, even encased within a den of snow and ice, he didn't feel trapped. Not as he usually did come winter. Link hated winter-loathed it intensly. There was just something about it, the cold, the hopelessness, the lack of excitement, as if even citizens of Hyrule were in hibernation, waiting for the return of spring and life. Everything just felt so...  
  
dead. And therein was the root of his dislike. He who had killed many a time, many a thing, hated winter because things felt dead. Ironic.  
  
However, Malon loved winter, she who was as innocent as could be-a crystal shining through the dirt, refusing to be corrupted by the debris that had been her past. She could have been resentful and bitter, never letting go of the past, never forgiving Ingo or even him.  
  
But she had forgiven them, both. Even if he could not forgive himself. He had saved her from the ranch, but not when he should have. The months spent there..they had taken something from her permanently. No, perhaps permanently was too strong a word. Temporarily. A spark hidden within that was just starting to sputter back once more, something that Link tried to encourage gently, careful not to scare it way, not even sure if he was worthy of such a thing, not even sure if he could do so much for himself.  
  
That spark was trust. Trust that shown in her face as she slept, one hand still curled in his as she slept a deep sleep. There, snuggled with her within layers upon layers of wool blankets and heavy quilts, Link was loathe to wake. It could have been summer and he would have been no happier. With her here, at peace, thoughts hazy things only beginning to form in the back of his mind, everything was alright.  
  
Link hadn't felt alright in a long time, hadn't felt tranquil. There was always some battle to wage, some enemy to conquer. The comfortable laziness of that morn was an alien feeling to him, though definitely a pleasant one.  
  
He wanted nothing more than to sink back into the feather pillow, arms around her, and sleep knowing complete contentment, but he knew he could not do so. For her, he must wake, get up, practice his sword fighting, so that if anything ever happened, if that enemy came back, if the world turned from peace to war in a second as he knew it could, he would be ready for it-not unprepared as his father had been. His father, who had not realized that his love could be his greatest weakness.  
  
But Link realized this, and for this he trained during that winter harder than ever, becoming even more of an elite swordsman. No one would take Malon away, would force her to chose between her life and her child's, or her life and his. She had made enough sacrifices, living on that farm with Ingo for those years, she must not have to make any more.  
  
Her childs'. Link's face softened as he carefully, gently slid his fingers from her own, moved his body away from her warmth, and sat up in bed.  
  
He put off getting up for one more minute in order to stare at Malon as she slept, one hand protectively clasped 'round her stomach, the slight bulge of it not even noticeable underneath so many blankets.  
  
Her other hand reached out across the bed, palm open as if in wait for something to grasp it, or as if she was reaching for something..something unattainable . For some reason, the sight of her hand thus disturbed Link and as he got up from bed at last, he made sure to close the open palm, moving it back to encircle her stomach as well.  
  
Zelda and Malon when asleep-they looked as different as day from night. Malon's face was as open as it was when she was awake-Link often amused himself that he could tell what she was dreaming simply from one good look at the twitchings of her face as she slept.  
  
But Zelda..Zelda, even when lost among her dreams, had looked guarded, nothing showing on a face carefully trained to be diplomatic. Perhaps it was because of her dreams, the strange, prophetic dreams that had caused her to wake in the middle of the night, to scream, beads of sweat gathered on her face and panic in her eyes. Link remembered and frowned at the memory. That was over now. Thank the godesses. He never could-or would- have been happy with her, for how can you love someone who doesn't have a heart?  
  
On winter mornings like these, Malon always jokingly said he reminded her of a Goron playing hop scotch. Kissing her forehead (only slightly, so as not to wake her) Link began his daily jumping jack routine, clamboring into his clothes, trying to keep his feet from touching the frigid floor as he pulled on his jerkin and shoes.  
  
The winter air, even more pronounced and fierce out of doors than it was in whistled around Link's entire body as he braced himself against the cold. Going out the door was like stepping over the threshhold between fire and ice with no inbetween.  
  
Shutting out all else; the snow, the wind, the horses stomping noisily in their stall waiting for their morning feeding, Link unleashed his sword from its place at his belt and began his daily practice.  
  
Slash. Slash. Parry. Slash. Turn. Jump. Stab. Backflip. Turn. Slash.  
  
Ah, this was the life. The cold was gone, replaced by the heat and the sweat that poured down Link's face. He didn't feel the snow crunch beneath his feet, or the wind pick up again after a short minute of dying down, whistling mournfully.  
  
All he felt was his immediate surroundings, his sword in his right hand, the stretching of his muscles, in his back, his legs, and his arms. Devoid of any other thoughts, Link became his sword-he was the weapon as it flew with rapid accuracy to pierce the pile of stale hay, as it seemed to cleave the spiraling, fierce wind itself in two, the arctic light causing it to give a metallic glint as it did so.  
  
It was here that Link made his worst misstep. No, not by a faulter of his sword arm or a treacherous slip of his feet, but in a way that had naught at all to do with his technical side of his fighting expertise. Becoming your sword, everything turns black and white. There are only two things of focus, you and the enemy, whatever or whoever that might be.  
  
Unfortunately, the enemy can switch on you within a second, the target can change. And Link found this out the hard way as he brought his sword down for the upteenth time, expecting to hear the dull rustling of hay as it found its mark. Instead, he heard the sickening noise of a human body falling to the ground.  
  
Instantly, the concentration was gone, his thoughts brought back in a flood as he stared at the destruction he had just wreaked.  
  
"Malon!" he shouted as she should have as his sword came down. Why, oh why couldn't she have given him some warning, some signal? How could she be so stupid, standing there?  
  
No, Link berated himself as he leaned over her prone body, it was me that was stupid. Not even noticing when she came up . I might as well be blind! Here I am, wanting nothing more than to protect her always and well, now, I won't have to. I protected her alright, from everything but myself.  
  
"Link? Link..."  
  
At first, Link thought he was hearing things, the phantom voice of Malon calling out to him in his grief, perhaps (for Link had automatically jumped to the conclusion his sword had gone clean through her.) Then, she called again and he realized it was no phantom, the emotions linked with the voice were very...human. Bemused, irritated, and questioning.  
  
"Link, next time, go outside and fight some poes instead of attacking the horses' supply of hay, alright?"  
  
Link ceased his admonishing as Malon sat up, perfectly alright, without so much as a scratch, and blinked at him, a slight smile on her face. She held out her hand and in a daze still, he helped her up from the ground.  
  
"But..but..I.." he began, surprised. His sword had hit her...hadn't it?  
  
Malon just shook her head. "I'm fine. Honestly, the sword had more of a chance of slashing Epona's new blanket than it did me."  
  
No way. There was just no way. She had been standing right there. Had fallen right in front of the haystack. The hay that he had been attacking with his sword. And Link never missed. The sword had to have hit her, somewhere. It had to have!  
  
He had heard it, hadn't he? The sickening crunch of bones as the yielded beneath his blade's touch.  
  
Shacking his head again as if to clear it of some terrible omen, Link stared at Malon. True to her word, she looked the same as ever, not even a rip in the coat and shawl hastily thrown over her nightgown.  
  
He was lucky, very lucky. Malon must have jumped to the side at the last second. Yes, that must have been it. Relief overcame Link in waves.  
  
"Malon, I could have killed you!" he said, pulling her into a fierce hug.  
  
To that, Malon hmpphed, , her voice only tremoring slightly as she tried to speak with a false assurance. Link had been on edge lately, not wanting to leave for the trip to Termina he would soon be taking with the king. Malon must do anything she could to make him realize she would be fine on her own.  
  
"No, you couldn't have. I'm not stone, you know. I can move. I just simply have to jump to one side."  
  
"Simply jump to one side and do what?"  
  
"This." Grinning misheviously, the shock now worn off, Malon kissed Link firmly. "Don't fret over it. A moblin said the same thing as you before I killed him."  
  
"When was that?"  
  
"Awhile ago." Malon grinned. "My bow and my collection of arrows were starting to get a little cobwebby, so..."  
  
"But if you use arrows, you have to stab them from-"  
  
"-Behind," finished Malon for Link. "I know. And that's exactly what I did."  
  
"That must have been a sight. Didn't know moblins could bend to touch their toes, much less show their nethers to a spy."  
  
"The word is maiden."  
  
"Uhuh, sure. A maiden who just so happens to be following me when I go to the forest temple to make sure I don't get hurt?"  
  
"I was there to take in the scenery, I promise! And chat with the forest sage."  
  
Link grinned, willing the thoughts that had raced through his head after he thought he had stabbed Malon to vanish into some vortex and never return.  
  
"Oh, of course. Chat with the forest sage. Naturally, since you two are such good friends. What's her name again?"  
  
"Umm..ermm..green haired girl?" guessed Malon, grinning back. "Or no, no, wait a minute. Green haired singing girl?"  
  
Link twirled her around in the snow. "Admit it, you were following me!"  
  
Malon laughed, Link's face spinning by as he twirled her faster and faster.  
  
"Never!"  
  
Letting go of his hands, she twirled dizzily backward, picking up a mound of snow as she nearly toppled. The lighthearted atomosphere was certainly a welcome change from the moment that had occured earlier. His sword coming down, the terror on his face, on her face. On her face?  
  
Strange. As she tried to recall it, the moment became more and more fuzzy. It all seemed to have happened to someone else, not her. She had come outside to feed the horses, and wish Link a good morning. Eyes searching for him just a split second before she came to the realization that he was right in front of her. One split second too late as the sword came down and through her. Through her? No. She had side stepped. Side stepped and slipped on the icy ground.  
  
But the information seemed clouded, unclear. Not as it should have been. Malon concentrated instead on compacting the snow into a little ball, her back turned away from Link.  
  
Splat!  
  
The iceball hit Link hard right in the gut, dusting his tunic in a fine layer of snow as he ran towards her, scooping up snow of his own along the way.  
  
"Why yo-"  
  
The words were hardly out of his mouth, his snowball not even yet thrown, before he was pelted yet again by Malon, her face worked into a mishevious smile.  
  
"Alright, alright," said Link, holding up his hand in truce, his hair now also coated in the fine, white powder. " You win. I know you can take care of yourself! I hereby promise to stop looking into investing in a large set of padlocks for when I'm gone, happy?"  
  
Whack. A snowball hit Link right in the face again. "Ouch. I was just kidding."  
  
Malon juggled another snowball in her hand. "Oh, you better have been..Unless you want to this to go down your shirt."  
  
"Truce, truce!" Link grabbed both her hands, causing the snowballs to drop. He hugged her again and this time seemed loathe to let go, hugged her so tightly she could barely breath. If he let her go, he seemed to be of the opinion she would vanish. His eyes were beholding her as if they would never be able to do so again-at least, not this way, not in this sort of situation.  
  
It scared Malon to see this in his stormy blue depths. Link'll just be gone for one week. One week, that's all. Think of how long you did without your father, for Nayru's sake! Everything will be fine.  
  
Fine. Absolutely fine. If everything's going to be so fine, then why is he looking at me as if he only has limited time before the world crumbles at our feet?  
  
"Link?" questioned Malon gently, beginning to pull out of his arms.  
  
"Just a little longer, Malon. Please? I just--don't want to think about later, about anything, you know?"  
  
About leaving. How can I trust him to come back if he can't even trust himself? He'll get caught up in some adventure and won't return, something will happen. I know it, and he knows it as well.  
  
Malon tried to joke. "Is this your way of trying to back out of the wedding, hmm?"  
  
Joking was the wrong remedy for whatever was going through Link right then. "It's impossible to get you to be serious now, isn't it? If that's what it takes..yeah, I would. Don't you realize I could have lost you, I could have- "  
  
Link started violently, taking his arms from around Malon's. "You shouldn't love me. It will kill you, sooner or later.," he told seriously, his hair swept across his face and his eyes dark, a far cry from the laughing man who had been getting pelted with snowballs only but a small while ago. He seemed miles away and Malon wasn't sure how to bring him back.  
  
But she would be damned if she didn't try. "Link, I am serious," she told him, reaching out across the distance, no matter how inpenetrable it seemed, and grasping his hand in her own. "I chose to love you, knowing it wouldn't be easy. People will try to kill me, trying to get to you, because you are the hero of time. But I know that, and I don't care. It's my choice and no matter how much you love me, you can't take that choice away."  
  
Link suddenly came closer to her again, shaking her, trying to knock sense into her, desperately trying to make her see what he saw so clearly-that the better things got, the worse they would eventually be. His and her hapiness, their unborn child, these were things that would be snatched up in an instant some day--when Ganon rose again. It wasn't a question of if, it was when..for Link knew that Ganon would not remained sealed away forever. He would return as he had promised. And because of his love for Malon, he had to break it off with her. Had to. If he didn't, eventually..eventually, she would pay for it.  
  
"What if I told you you couldn't love me?"  
  
Silence. And then, laughter. Loud and clear. The words that, if not the remedy, soothed his soul. "I can't *not* love you. It's just..not possible. Even if..you won't marry me. Even if I never saw you again. I'd still love you."  
  
Link's eyes lightened, as did his heart. He had to break it off with her..but he couldn't. Couldn't save her from this. Even if he did, she had said herself, she would never cease loving him. He knew he was being selfish, wanting her love even at the risk it brought. But he loved her. And he would protect her somehow..from whatever was to come.  
  
In the end, who knew what would happen. Maybe he'd defeat Ganondorf at last..maybe not. But even then, he wouldn't be free. He was the hero of time-and indebted to save the people again and again from whatever threated or troubled them. No one should bear such a burden. No one but him. But she would..  
  
because she chose to do so. And he'd never give her a moment to doubt that choice, to want to turn back. They would be married, and live happily, and grow old together. He would see to it.  
  
And I, you," Link whispered in her ear. His voice, quiet as a breath from an old grandmother napping in her rocking chair, lowered even more, until she had to strain to hear it. "But I'm so afraid that one day I'll hurt you..and that would ten times worse than even Ganondorf spiriting you away. Someday, I'll have to hurt you to protect you. He's told me so..in my dreams. And if I have to, if it's the only way...I would."  
  
Malon just smiled. How could she continue to smile like that? Link wondered. Optimism. Hope. He clung to the emotions behind that smile tenaciously, allowing them to become his own.  
  
He was just overreacting, that was all. Poor Malon, seeing the side of him like this. He hoped she wasn't paying too close attention to everything he had said.  
  
"Link, it's alright. You'd never hurt me-not on purpose, or even on accident. It just couldn't hapen. Something would stop you, I know it. Can't say how, but I do. Same as it would stop me from doing the same. And if it happened on accident as it almost did this morning..well, everyone gets hurt, even loved ones sometimes. It's the way of the world. To love, you have to hurt a little."  
  
Link pouted, sounding like a pentulant little child denied a sweet. "Well, then, I don't like the world." He dusted some of the snow off his shoulder as he pulled Malon's shawl over her head to stop her shivering, in addition, putting one arm around her to prevent this. "You're saying if I sliced off your arm, you'd personally thank me?"  
  
Malon didn't answer his question directly. "Look, I've got to go feed the horses now. You can come with me, if you like."  
  
Nodding, Link took the pail from her while she carried the hay across the ground, making sure to leave out one hand to steady her. The load was heavy and he didn't want her slipping on the icy ground as she had done more than once-particularly not when she was with child. How could he ever have doubted marrying her?  
  
Of course, he had never doubted wanting to.  
  
"To answer your question from earlier," Malon said, her breath coming out in gusts of air. "It's nothing like that, silly. All I'm saying is that pain goes hand in hand with all else."  
  
"Don't have to tell me that," Link said as he opened the stable doors and began breaking up the chunks of ice in the bucket with his covered hands.  
  
"I'm a swordsman, remember? Carry a big, pointy weapon?"  
  
"You do indeed. And poke yourself with it every time you try to sit down, too." Malon's voice came from a stall over, where she was measuring hay into Epona's feed box.  
  
******  
  
The horses all fed and watered, the two left the stable together and were silent all the way back to the house. Until, that was, right outside the doorway, where Malon scooped up another snowball and hit Link with it as he walked back inside.  
  
Immediately, he wheeled around, smiling at her. "Heeey!"  
  
Thirty minutes later, two very drenched, cold, red-cheeked, and happy people were lying on their backs in the snow, each trying to restock on "ammunition."  
  
Link came over to help Malon up again, curteous of her current situation, only to be rewarded with a snowball right in his forehead.  
  
Link ignored this, examining Malon as she stood. "You've got snow all over the back of your nightdress," he told her seriously. "Here, let me help..."  
  
He brushed off the last of the snow from the back of her clothes, then without further ado, rubbed a snowball he had been hiding behind his back right into her red hair.  
  
Malon grabbed another snowball, tearing after him as he ran away.  
  
"What say we go for a nice walk?" Link murmured as Malon stood inches behind him, arm raised and ball of snow ready for firing straight between his eyes.  
  
Malon dropped the snowball. "I'd love to. But I forgot my cloak.."  
  
"No you didn't," said Link as she linked her arm through is. "I'm right here."  
  
Malon rolled her eyes. "Oh please, not the flirting. It's so early in the morning, I don't think I can take it."  
  
"Mmm.." said Link as they walked out the gate of Lon Lon ranch, ready to shock any half respecting villager who happened to be out early and saw Malon still in her nightgown. "May I remind you just who started that snowball fight?"  
  
"I was provoked!"  
  
"By what?  
  
"Epona?" fibbed Malon.  
  
"Always knew that horse didn't like me."  
  
"Oh, come on now. She loves you almost as much as I do," said Malon comfortingly as they walked. They were wandering the trails, with no apparent purpose or mission, no set destination, but that bothered neither of them in the slightest.  
  
"Almost. Hopefully not quite. The love of a horse is pretty flattering, but- -"  
  
"Not as flattering as the love of another human being?"  
  
"Definitely not as satisfying."  
  
Malon swatted at him. "I thought I told you no flirting!"  
  
"Right. I'll just stick to the weather. Lovely, isn't it?"  
  
"You know," said Malon with the utmost of seriousness. "I believe it's snowing." The bells of Hyrule town alerted her that the nonexsistence of time that seemed to be present right then could not last forever. She pulled on Link's arm. "Well, we'd better get back and get changed for you know what."  
  
Link groaned. "S'time for that already?"  
  
"No," admitted Malon. "But I need plenty of time to get ready!"  
  
"Women," muttered Link to himself as Malon dragged him back off towards the house. "Can't we just skip the stupid ball and enjoy our last days together?"  
  
Last days before I go, he should have said, but unfortunately, it came out all wrong. At least Malon didn't notice. Or if she did, she didn't say anything on the matter.  
  
"Are you asking for another snowball fight?" she teased.  
  
"No." Link suddenly took off, using his hookshot to pull him yards ahead of where Malon was, shouting over his shoulder as he did so. "A race!"  
  
Malon began racing after him. "Cheater!"  
  
"Can't prove it!"  
  
*********  
  
Today was the ball. Lately, with Link as a sort of honorary prince (and hero) life seemed to be a neverending circle of dances and cottilions, introductions to kings and queens who longed to meet the hero of time- most for selfish reasons of their own. But this ball was different. Sure, they had announced their engagement to the Gorons, but never to the nobles. To tell the truth, Malon had been putting it off. She never had felt comfortable around nobles, being just a peasant. If it hadn't been for Link, they would still be ignoring her as always.  
  
Today was the day. The king had said the ball as in their honor. Not just Link's, but hers. THEIR honor. THEIR ball, where they would announce their engagement. Tightening the stays on her dress just a tinsy bit more, Malon surveyed herself worriedly in the mirror. No one would be able to tell she was pregnant, would they?  
  
She hoped not. Such a thing, she knew, would be considered scandalous by the nobles, though the Zoras already knew and had accept the news with much joy (and had showered Link with even more of their precious gems "for the baby".)  
  
As she was about to leave the room, Malon remembered the clothes she had disgarded on the floor, her nightgown and shawl from that morning. Ever the tidy one, she bent over and folded them up into neat bundles, ready to place them in her drawers, when something on the nightgown caused her to drop it to the floor, her merry, blushing face turning pale.  
  
There, on the nightgown, on the upper right hand side, was a circle of blood.  
  
Biting her lip, Malon carefully took the nightgown and turned it inside out, folding over the part seeped in red. She was not sure what had happened or how it had happened, but she remembered Link's sword that morning. Had it hit her after all? But then how could she have bled if there was nothing, not even a small scratch, on her body?  
  
Deciding this was not something to worry Link about and sure there was a reasonable explanation, Malon left the room, ready for the ball..and incredibly nervous about it too.  
  
What would the nobles say at the announcement of their engagement? And worse, that prince whathisname was going to be there, wasn't he? The prince of the country that Link was going to visit with the king next week?  
  
Termina. Some sort of uprising was feared, some people's feathers ruffled that needed to be soothed by Link's and the king's visit. They had something against Hyrule, though Link had never told her what. Perhaps he didn't know.  
  
Or that was what Malon told herself. She didn't like to think that he kept things-secrets- from her.  
  
*****************  
  
A/N=hehe, sorry people. I had to come back to Link/Malon. Just can't seem to let that couple go.;) Anyway, what's up with Zelda? We'll find that out in the next chapter-along with more on Link/Malon, of course! And the return of Prince John and Malon's gerudo friend.:D 


	4. Lament

ï»¿ @ Flight Of A Fledgling@  
ch. 4-Lament  
by:GoldenSilence  
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disclaimer: characters don't belong to me. If you think they did, well, you're in the wrong fandom, my friend.;)  
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A/N=Gah, stupid floppy disks. Anyone care to tell me why the hell you can't use one to transfer a story from a windows 95 computer to a windows XP? Blah. I formatted it to the new computer and it completly erased the new chapters on my stories, both this one and my original one. Needless to say, I was ever so slightly pissed. Well, now I'm typing them up all over again..only problem is, this chapter turned out a lot different than I originally planned due to my stoopid computer. *Takes floppy to kitchen with her in order to melt it in a lovely ritualistic burning beneath her microwave.   
Hmmm..maybe this writing thing is really getting to be a little TOO much of an obsession.  
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The gates of Hyrule Castle creaked their way open, iron long ago turned to rust making a grating noise in Zelda's ears. She hesitated on the threshhold of entering into her home, one slippered foot paused in mid-air as if climbing an invisible step, the other foot hidden beneath layers of snow.  
  
The guard, used to this kind of strange obstinancy (all nobles had their quirks of sorts, bless them) simply gave a sigh and stood off to one side resolutely, by manner of decorum refusing to enter until Zelda herself did. He did not move even now as snow seeped most unpleasantly into his armor, his leather shoes, his hair, his face, and even, he suspected, his long underwear (the wife would NOT be happy.)  
  
He stood this way for a time, until he was sure he would no longer be able to move even if he wanted to, a snowman composed of tin, his eyelashes stuck together by irritating clumps of snow. Perhaps if he just gave her a gentle shove with his spear...  
  
"Errm, milady? Perhaps we should get a move on?"  
  
This was said through teeth that would have been gritted with impatience if they hadn't been chattering quite so hard.  
  
At this, Zelda seemed to come back to life. The suspended foot went down, but she still did not advance any further through Hyrule Castle's gates, which were, thought the guard with extreme irritation, only a step away.  
  
"Milady, we really must hurry. Otherwise, I fear, at this rate, we will get to see his majesty for dinner instead of breakfast."  
  
Zelda shrugged with a carelessness the guard had long ago learned to be careful of. It was just such a feigned apathy that meant the princess cared deeply about something, and when royalty cared deeply about something..well, all hell ran for cover.  
  
"Why?" she said, and immediately winced at her choice of words. They were the sort of words that were forever linked with the voice of a whining, spoiled child, one who was used to getting everything she wanted. Zelda knew she had been just such a child and found herself continually having to hide the evidence. Though, her spoiled childhood had not been without penalty. She had been, and still was, given everything she dreamed of..with a price. What she wanted was hers, but what she needed..ah, that was another story altogether.  
  
"I mean, why should we go in and see him? I'm sure it's nothing important.."  
  
Zelda trailed off, buying time. She was sure the outdoors, as uneappealing and frigid as they were, were much to be preferred to the castle, which to her, was more alien than even this wintery wonderland.  
  
The guard stared at her like she had gone starking mad. "The last time you said that, princess, you had broken the family heirloom and spilled a quart of wine all over the best linen." The guard grinned. "Seem to remember something about climbing the 'wrong' tree. Talented little thing you were back then."  
  
Such loss of respect was a dangerous thing, especially when you were to be future queen. Zelda lived in constant fear of this. It was not so much that she wanted to rule, not really, but..what if she simply was not cut out to rule? With no siblings, she would have no choice but to reign. The dream from last night rushed unbidden to her mind, fleeting images rushing through, vanishing as quickly as they appeared. Was this what was in store for the future of Hyrule if she became its queen?  
  
How could she ever be a ruler, commanding thousands, when she couldn't even command herself or get Hyrule's own guards to respect her?  
  
It never occured to Zelda that there was any form of respect besides that of the servant to the master, that there was such a thing as the respect of a friend for another, respect in the form of comrady.  
  
"Your memory is very reliable, indeed. Perhaps it would be better served to remember I am no longer five years old, catching my ribbons on tree branches," Zelda said stiffly. She drew herself up the way she had seen her father do and gave him the look. "As it would do you well to remember your place."  
  
The attitude was not hers, but after years of practice, it had become second nature to her, which made it as good as hers. A queen, her father had always told her, must keep her distance, never get too close. You must be concerned about the people, of course, but not concerned personally. Otherwise, you would never last a year as a ruler, always worrying that every last thing gone wrong with the people was your fault. Why, you'd wear yourself out within a fortnight.  
  
The guard bowed, gesturing with his hand to the gates, something like dissapointment in his eyes, along with an undimmed spark of laughter. Zelda felt her face grow hot in spite of herself. Goddesses, how dare her laugh at her.   
  
"As you wish, MILADY. Perhaps it would do me well in addition to remind milady that her crown is turned backwards?"  
  
Fixing her crown hastily, her face now not only hot, but red with emberassment, Zelda gathered the remaining tatters of her dignity. "As it would benefit you most greatly when I remind you not to fall asleep on guard duty again. The cook was not amused when your spear hit him across the flat of his back."  
  
"Oh, but I was."  
  
Losing her air of superiority, just as the guard had intended her to, Zelda glared at him in fury. "Next time you choose to nap on guard duty, I'll see to it you get fired."  
  
She threw up her hands in the air when the guard said nothing. "Honestly Matthew, you aren't a child anymore! It's time you acted mature!" Then, more quietly. "I don't want to have you back out on the streets."  
  
"Zelda..."  
  
"Don't. Just don't. It isn't befitting. We aren't children anymore, and I-- Things are more difficult now."  
  
Something in Matthew's eyes took spark and he opened his mouth to speak words of assurance, but Zelda was gone before he could let them fall, not racing through the gates, but walking rapidly just the same, the pace of her feet set to that of someone important going somewhere of equal importantance, someone who would not dilly dally or stop to chat.  
The conversation, slim as it had been, had not receeded to nothing, and the guard knew it would not restart anytime soon.  
  
The guard tipped the visor of his helmet low over his head before passing through the gates himself, his pace even with that of the girl's, his spear clinking against the pebblestones every other step with an odd hollow sound. Whether the familiarity of name or concern affected the guard was not apparent, for the recesses of his face were hidden beneath the mask of intricately worked steel and iron.  
  
"There is far more to being a child than just running around in petticoats." The words were not lost on Zelda, whispered quietly as they were, with the intent they should reach no one's ears. But before she could respond, even if she would have chosen to do so, (which she most emphatically did not) the guard seemed to turn one with the floor and walls of the castle, standing still, spear at his side in constant viligeance (that went on a temporary vacation every once in awhile.)  
  
Zelda, even though she did not bother to acknowledge this change of position and ceasing of movement, knew that Matthew had returned to his regular station. From this point on, she was on her own.  
  
This girl too was the possesor of a mask, though it may not have been wrought of something as tangible as metal, a mask she wore now with ease, her face obscured by the blandness written across it. If she was so good at not caring, then how come she cared so very much?  
  
"Best sharpen your wit, soldier, before I have you reported."  
  
And with that last departing barb, Zelda pushed through the doors that lead to the throne room. Tall and imposing as most everything appeared within the castle, the doors served more of an ordamental purpose than anything else, jewels encrusted into not only the handles but the lattice workings of the frames. Across the red carpet Zelda walked, bits of snow tracking in on the heels of her soaked, slippered feet and the equally soaked hem of the sweeping train of her dress.  
  
Zelda looked neither left nor right, keeping her head high and focused on some point directly above her father's head. It was far better to appear haughty then to let show the emotions beneath. From the goron's celebration of Malon's and Link's engagement to her dream last night, Zelda's reign on her emotions was still a bit shaky, and she was taking no chances that someone could see what was written in her eyes and read it as a weakness to be taken advantage of.  
  
"Zelda."  
  
"Good sir."  
  
Her father cleared his throat loudly as Zelda dipped into a curtsy before him, as effortlessly as another might nod his head or yawn. It was second nature to her, as sea legs to a sailor.  
The king's irritation was obvious to her, if no one else. Like her, his face was a lesson in careful complacency, but thinly veiled beneath it was anger. Good goddesses. What HAD she done now?  
  
At first, Zelda thought it might be her unruly appearance. Everyone, from the kitchen boy to the stable master, knew her father hated unkemptness with a passion. Why, Zelda was surprised he didn't already have some servant with a dustbin behind visitors at all times, to ensure the castle stayed as spic and span as ever. Guiltily, Zelda willed herself to stay focused on the spot behind her father's head and not crane her neck around- no matter how much she desired-to look at the puddles of snow she had left in her wake, melting into the thick carpet now so that it appeared sporadically polka-dotted, stained dark red by the snow in some places, its original faded red shade still intact in others.  
  
"You wished to see me on some matter?"  
  
The king took his time answering, finishing the bit of bacon he was nibbling on and washing it all down with a tankard of ale. Definitely a bad sign. Her father never made people wait for an answer unless he wished them particular torment.  
  
"Yes. I did."  
  
Realizing her father was not about to elaborate any further, Zelda encouraged him. "And?"  
  
"And you seem to have brought in the avalanche of the outdoors in with you. Pray tell, how did you manage such a feat?"  
  
"Are you so sure it was me, father? We do have ever so very many lofty windows.."  
  
Her father's face darkened and his grip on his ale slankened as he lowered the beverage, not exactly slamming it, but causing it to make a nice distinctive noise as it was brought down upon the wood of the table all the same. The instant her mistake came to mind, it was already too late to right it. "Father"??? Ugh, what had she been thinking? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Father was a term of endearment used on an old man with a beard and a potbelly, a middle aged man with twinkly eyes who gestured with his arms so much, he was prone to knock things over; in short, a loveable figure. Her "father" was not a loveable figure.  
  
Especially not now.  
  
Standing up to his full height, which towered over all the imposing things in the room, including both his own full backed, gold painted ( "it's really silver, Zelda, but you'd be amazed at what you can fool people into believing") chair and the viceroy of Hyrule, himself a full six foot one.   
  
"Your impertenence is not needed, Zelda. Especially not today. You interrupted a most important meeting this morning, coming barging as you did. I specifically asked for you to come a half hour prior, but apparently your sense of time is nonexsistent, as is your sense of dignity."  
  
Sense of dignity, her ass. If it wasn't for her sense of dignity, Zelda would have hurled her slipper at her father. As it was, she had to restrain herself from making a smart retort in kind.   
  
"Forgive me. I did not think. What is the matter of which you wish to see me about?"  
  
"The hero of time."  
  
Zelda found herself suddenly going defensive. The mere mention of him in front of others made her feel ashamed. Ashamed of what, she wasn't sure, except for that the feeling was not a welcome or familiar one, nor one she wanted to keep around.  
  
"What about Li-the hero of time?"  
  
Her father regarded her coldly. "What are your feelings on marriage?"  
  
The world seemed to spin before her eyes. Everything within the room condensed and blurred, so that it seemed to rush towards her as it spun. All of it became an erratic mixture of colors; her father's robes, the blotchy carpet, the table weighted down with food and more than its share of people, and the high windows, indeed, so high that they served absolutely no purpose, as even the viceroy standing on his tiptoes upon the back of her father's chair could not be able to view the scenery out of them.  
  
"I..marriage? To him?" Zelda whispered faintly, clasping her hands in front of her as if it would somehow help her retain her sense of balance and her clear head, both of which appeared to have temporarily flown right out the aformentioned windows.  
  
"Indeed. What say you to it?"  
  
No, no, no, no! Zelda's brain shouted as at the same time, an entirely different part of her, ill used but there none the less, screamed with equal fevor, yes, yes, yes!  
She could not find a voice with which to speak.  
  
"It would be a most wise move, and I am not unaware of your feelings for him, child."  
  
He knew? But how could he? She had hidden it so well. Zelda was aware of several gasps and dissaproving glances sent her way courtesy of the nobles and important officials gathered at the meeting. Her father was a sneaky one, he was. Determined to emberass her in the worst way possible. Zelda felt like a very small rodent or bird in a cage, with several unkind faces leering from a proximity far too near to be comfortable, peering so that she wanted nothing more than to cuddle into a little ball, and put her hands over her eyes, like a small child in a game of hide and seek.  
  
Zelda, who often was the creature fashioned of ice that she was rumored to be, felt like a gray horizon burst into firey color as the sun rose. So many emotions flooded her, she dimly wondered if she might be going mad. Sadness, anger, happiness, all of it came as suddenly as her bout of diziness so that Zelda wasn't sure whether she wanted to cry, or laugh, or simply sit down on the floor and scream until all the mirrors within the palace shattered and the walls heaved down upon her.  
  
Only a mere week ago she had been in this same room, asking her father the same question. He had responded in the negative, leaving her only the perogative of breaking Link's heart gently. But was such a thing possible? Now, Zelda was entirely sure it was not, nor had it ever been. If she had suceeded with Link's heart, she had entirely botched up the job on her own, for it was nowhere near as whole.  
  
Now, after all that pain and effort, he was telling her it wasn't neccesary? That he wanted her to marry Link after all, that he wanted her to marry Link after she had gone and refused him!??  
  
"Zelda, are you alright?"  
  
Damn him, she was nowhere near alright!   
  
Somewhere within her, Zelda found her will to talk, though her voice sounded oddly marred within her own ears. "I was of the mind that you were oppposed to the idea."  
  
"Not anymore. Apparently, he had quite the fortune left to him by the gorons."  
  
Oh, this was preposterous and horribly ironic! The jewels the gorons had given him of their own good for Malon's and Link's engagement were the impetus for her father's sudden change of mind? After all of his deeds to serve others, it was other's good deeds that were to serve to elevate him in the eyes of the nobles at last?   
  
Link was now more than just an honorary prince of sorts. He was a prince with money. And Zelda's father would never let her marry someone without money.  
  
She knew the words she had to say, though it was so terribly tempting to take the low road out and not say them, to allow her father to scheme away, to allow herself to be happy. But could she ever be truly happy if Link was miserable?  
  
In spite of her resolve, Zelda's voice went shaky, betraying the lie to her words, something it hadn't done in years.  
  
"No, I can't. I can't not marry for love. When we married, it would be nought but coins being exchanged from one hand to another, and you know it."  
  
Her father didn't even try to hide his motives. "I do. But allow me to reiterate I also know that the marriage would not be without love. You do love him, no matter how you try to hide it."  
  
"Did" muttered Zelda, uncomfortable with the personal turn the conversation was taking. She did not like to show her true self in front of others. "As did he. Begging your pardon if I think he wouldn't be exactly keen to this idea. Or did you forget that you told me to refuse his offer of marriage a week hence?"  
  
The king waved his hand impatiently, as if this was minor distraction in the grandeur of the picture he was painting. "Bah. That matters not. If he is of such outstanding character as all the lasses of Hyrule make him out to be, he will accept you back with open arms, vouch my word for it."  
  
"Oh no he won't." Zelda normally never would have let herself get so carried away, but she was furious. Those that had never seen the princess as anything other than the narrow, pale faced girl with the pointed ears, with about as emotion as a still life, were amazed at expression upon her features whence provoked. Underneath contempously raised eyebrows, the grey stood out inside her steely light blue eyes, opened wide and unblinking, all the more scary for the turmoil within them. Her mouth was pinched tightly, making her cheekbones appear prominent on her face. Pale yellow hair fell across her flushed cheeks.  
  
"Now, now-"  
  
"He WON'T" went on Zelda determinedly, "because he's already bethrothed to another."  
  
"Well, this is a new development. To whom?"  
  
"That matters not. All that matters is that he is getting married tomorrow at the Temple of Time. Suits your plan rather ill, doesn't it?"  
  
"That's enough. You are excused. I thought to seek your input first, but such decisions are best left to one that knows how to make them."  
  
Zelda was glad her fall of blonde hair hid her face as she curtseyed one last time. She was fuming.  
  
Her father grinned slightly. "Oh, and Zelda? One last thing. You forget I am king. I have the final say in all things. ALL things."  
  
Dutifully, Zelda retreated a few paces, but on a whim of mind, she turned to face her father once again. "I will not leave. I am not a guest at your table to be excused when you tire of my company. I'm your daughter and I am staying here until you promise the idea of me marrying Link is out of your head."  
  
"I'm afraid, dearest daughter," the king spoke, his tones mocking, "that your use in this matter has come to an end. As your father"-he was definitely mocking now-"I will decide what is best for you." The king clapped his hands almost lazily. "Guards?" The guards lining either side of the halls like pillars instantly snapped to attention. "Kindly escort the princess back to her quarters."  
  
Zelda did not give her father the contentment of struggling with the guards as they walked her off, their hands in vicelike grips on either of her shoulders as they manuevered her firmly towards the doors.  
  
"Oh please, please," Zelda pleaded in her mind, not entirely sure who or what she was pleading to, other than that it was some divine force. Perhaps Nayru or Din or even one of the sages. It mattered not, so long as someone listened to her. "Let him be satisfied to simply ruin my life. Don't let him ruin the life of others in addition. Please let him leave all alone."  
  
The king went back to his meeting as if the interruption had never happened. He had far too much on the mind to let his daughter's uncharacteristic behavior bother him. Terminia, for example. Just what they were planning he wasn't sure, but he didn't like the sound of events taking place there at all, whispers of rebellion and shadows of..  
  
The king shuddered and cut that thought off abruptly. Even in his mind, he was wary of putting a name to his own fears.'Twas most unwise.  
  
So Malon and Link were getting married tomorrow. Before Link left for Terminia with him, then. Hmm..not much time, but he could fix things up, he was sure. Fix things up for himself, which of course, assured that for everyone else, the transition would be a miserable one.  
  
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End file.
